Holy Holes in Our Pockets: Haggai and the Hustle
Today I read the short book of Haggai. It’s just two chapters long, but it left me thinking about the strange sense of dissatisfaction that can come with doing everything right and still feeling like it’s not enough.
Echoes of the Exhausted: Haggai 1:6 and Modern Burnout
In Haggai 1:6 (NLT), the text says: “You have planted much but harvest little. You eat but are not satisfied. You drink but are still thirsty. You put on clothes but cannot keep warm. Your wages disappear as though you were putting them in pockets filled with holes.” There’s a kind of exhaustion in that verse that feels familiar. The image isn’t just about food or clothing or money—it feels like it could apply to the way we chase goals or productivity or comfort, only to find they don’t deliver the payoff we expected. You put in the hours. You get the promotion. You buy the thing. And yet, something's still missing.
In the context of Haggai, the people had returned from exile and were trying to rebuild their lives. They weren’t ignoring their responsibilities, exactly—they were building homes, planting crops, doing what seemed necessary. But the temple, which represented something bigger than daily survival, was left in ruins.
Good Intentions, Misaligned Outcomes
The book suggests that maybe the frustration they were feeling wasn’t just about physical lack, but a kind of misalignment. That even good work can feel hollow if it's disconnected from a broader purpose. I’m not sure what to make of that entirely. Is the message here that certain efforts are only meaningful when tied to something sacred? Or is it more about priorities in general—how easy it is to get so focused on maintaining life that we forget to reflect on what we're maintaining it for?
Sometimes people work hard and still struggle, through no fault of their own. I do find it interesting that this ancient text speaks to that kind of futility directly, without sugarcoating it. There’s no praise here for how hard they were working. Just a mirror held up to the fact that the effort wasn’t leading where they hoped.
From Spinning Wheels to a New Start
I wonder how often that happens today. When the feeling of always being behind or never quite fulfilled isn’t a personal failure, but a signal that something deeper is being overlooked.
Haggai doesn’t dwell long in that discomfort. The people hear the message, and they respond by beginning the work of rebuilding the temple. The text shifts quickly from frustration to movement. But I’m still sitting with the middle part—the moment of realizing that the grind isn’t delivering what was promised. That’s a space I think a lot of people know well. What you do with that realization might be different depending on who you are or what you believe. But the question still lingers: What are we pouring our energy into, and why?